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‘Like what?’
‘Inspired. Passionate.’
‘I’ll remind you of that on the day.’
‘What day?’
‘The day of the ball...when you see your costume.’
Our conversation in the snow comes back to me, and just like that I’m smiling. Smiling and remembering her teasing and her promise to play the role. My damsel in distress.
As if.
‘Oh, my!’
Marie gasps, her hand over her mouth, as she looks past me. And I know what she’s seen—or rather who. Her presence thickens the very air that I breathe, my body warms, and slowly I turn, lift my gaze to the top of the grand staircase, and there she is.
Summer.
Her name resonates through me as my vision narrows and she’s all I can see. Her golden hair tumbling free about her bare shoulders...a dusting of sparkle all over...her iridescent dress the colour of the mist that enshrouds Glenrobin on the most mystical of days.
Ethereal. Magical. Otherworldly. She could have stepped out of a fairy tale herself.
And isn’t that the point?
Tonight she is a true princess and she’s mine. All mine.
Marie gives a soft chuckle beside me. ‘Best close that mouth of yours before you catch a fly, Master Edward.’
I choke my agreement. Do as she suggests. But there’s no moving—my feet are rooted. I’m incapable of anything but watching as Summer lifts the layers of tulle enough to reveal silver stilettos on her feet and starts to descend.
The light of the chandelier plays across her skin, her dress...over the silver-stitched pattern of birds and butterflies in the skirt and the heart-shaped corset that’s a work of art. Its fairy tale scene is so detailed that I want to trace it with my fingers, every millimetre of it—and her.
She gives me a coy smile as she reaches the bottom step—a smile that is so unlike her it makes my heart flip and my hand reach out on impulse. ‘Prince Charming at your service, Princess.’
I bow my head but keep my eyes fixed on hers, and her smile grows, stealing my breath and my heart with it.
‘I think it’s Cinders,’ she whispers, slipping her hand into mine.
‘Not on my watch.’
I’m vaguely aware that Marie has left us. Vaguely aware that there’s a reason why I can’t pull her to me and kiss her as deeply as I’d like.
I raise her hand to my lips, sweep her knuckles with the briefest kiss. ‘You look breathtaking.’
She wets her glossy lips. ‘You scrub up pretty well too.’
I smile. The look in her eye is worth every frill and every revealing inch below my waist. ‘Are you ready to greet your guests?’
She gives an unsteady laugh. ‘I want to be. But of all the things I’ve done, this has to be the most terrifying.’
‘Come now, Princess...’ I encourage her down the last step and place her hand on my arm. ‘You’ve travelled the globe, faced challenges I can barely imagine. You’ve built classrooms and homes with your bare hands. You’ve taught English to women when their communities would have had them bearing babies instead. You’ve protested for women’s rights and been imprisoned for it. You, my darling, have no need to be afraid.’
She’s staring up at me, her eyes reaching wider and wider with every word. ‘You really have been reading up on me.’
Reading up on you, devouring your postcards, falling in love with you...yes, that’s me.
‘When the subject is so fascinating, how could I stop?’
